


Free

by elumish



Series: Perceptive Reality [3]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s01e04 Emancipation, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3881275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elumish/pseuds/elumish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam couldn’t believe she had just argued with her CO.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free

**Author's Note:**

> So I just read that Emancipation is considered one of the worst SG-1 episodes ever, so...there you go.

Two hours after the return to the SGC, there was a knock on the door to Daniel’s office. He looked up to see Teal’c standing in his doorway, hands clasped behind his back.

When Teal’c just started at him, Daniel raised a hand. “Hi.”

“Greetings, Daniel Jackson.”

Daniel scrubbed a hand across his face. “You know, you can just call me Daniel. On Earth, we generally don’t call people by both their first and last name.” No response from Teal’c. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I was wondering if perhaps you could teach me how to read.”

Oh. Huh. That wasn’t what Daniel had been expecting. “Yeah. I, uh, I mean, I’m not sure exactly how to teach reading, but I’m sure I can find resources for it, and…can you read Goa’uld, or, I mean, not that that matters, but I guess I’m just curious. Not that it matters.” Damn, he was babbling. “Yes, I’d be happy to teach you how to read. If it’s okay, I’d just need a few days to look up some books on it.”

Teal’c inclined his head. “Thank you. I fear that I cannot be a proper member of your team if I am unable to read the information being provided to me.”

Daniel couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that before. “We probably should have thought of that before.” Something else struck him. “Does that mean that Jack just…made up the spelling of your name?”

“I am unsure, Daniel Jackson.”

Right. Though that really was like Jack, though. “I’ll—”

“You should have informed me, Captain, the moment it was clear that you were in no shape to fight.”

Daniel jumped to his feet, hurrying over to where Teal’c was standing in the doorway. Jack and Captain Carter were just past his office, walking away from them. From the set of their shoulders, both of them were pissed.

Captain Carter’s voice was clipped when she answered, “Clearly I was capable of fighting. And my injuries aren’t that severe.”

“I would count serious bruising to your ribs and having been _whipped_ severe, Captain, and so should you. I will not have you putting my team in danger by not disclosing necessary information regarding your health.”

Daniel’s heart sank to his stomach, and a ball of nausea rose up to his throat. He knew logically that he wasn’t at fault for the misogyny of the people on the planet, but if he hadn’t insisted that she wear the clothing, if they hadn’t been so caught up in relishing in the idea of seeing their Captain as a women when it was more important that she was a soldier, if they had managed to protect her—this was his fault, and he knew it. And in all likelihood she did, too.

Captain Carter spun to face Jack head-on. “I was perfectly capable of carrying out my duties, sir, and unless I’m mistaken, my actions were necessary for the success of the mission.”

Jack moved half-step towards her, and she flinched away before settling into what looked like a perfect military stance. Daniel had gotten good at telling those, because once he started looking at them as a culture, they made a lot of sense.

Jack looked seriously unhappy, but then he locked it down just like Captain Carter had. She did the weird thing where she looked at him without looking at him, asking, “Permission to be dismissed, Colonel?”

“Permission granted.”

Captain Carter nodded, then turned on her heel and started walking back in the direction of Daniel’s office. Daniel ducked back into his office, half-hiding behind Teal’c, but she didn’t even seem to notice that they were there. Jack watched her go for a long second, then headed out in the other direction.

\--

Sam couldn’t believe she had just argued with her CO. She was angry and in pain, but that was no excuse for how she had spoken to Colonel O’Neill. She would be lucky if he didn’t write her up for insubordination.

Driving herself home hurt like hell, and she knew she should have gotten someone to drive her home, but the real problem was with sitting, not turning a steering wheel. She had two whip marks on her back that Janet said would heal soon—after telling her she wasn’t allowed through the gate until they did so—and her ribs felt like someone had taken a hammer to them.

Holy Hannah, that last mission had been a mess. She had known that the United States, and even its Armed Forces, were relatively liberal when it came to dealing with women, but she had never thought she would face something like what she had faced there. Being seen as nothing more than property, having been bought and sold, it had demeaning.

And worse than that, she hadn’t been able to defend herself. In the end she might have been able to, but it had been too little, too late, and now Colonel O’Neill had inevitably lost all faith in her abilities. Good officers didn’t get themselves kidnapped and sold off.

She wasn’t supposed to shower so she didn’t get the dressings dirty, but she wanted nothing more than to get the feeling of the planet off of her, so she decided to give herself a sponge bath. Which was a wonderful idea until she tried to get her shirt off, because son of a bitch, that hurt. Twisting her arms, she started pulling the bottom of her shirt up, then stopped when her back screamed in agony past the painkillers she was on.

But damn it, she was going to get this sponge bath. She deserved it. And even if she didn’t get it, she needed to get this stupid shirt off.

Digging her teeth into her lower lip, she got her hands in place on her shirt and _pulled_ , and her shirt caught and tugged and _hurt_ , but she got it up, got it off, and there were tears running down her face and her lip was bleeding and she probably should have stayed in the infirmary but all she had wanted to do was go home.

Even if she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to lift her arms high enough to actually give herself a sponge bath.

And then her doorbell rang and she almost put her head through her mirror. She was not up to talking to anyone at the moment, especially considering that she now had a bleeding hole in her lip and was shirtless. But there was no way Sam was going to put that goddamn shirt back on, so she grabbed her bathrobe and slipped it on, tying it over her bra.

The walk to her door took longer than she would like to be admit, but if this person really wanted to talk to her, they could wait.

After resting her forehead on the door for a second, she stepped back and yanked it open. And in front of her stood Colonel O’Neill, who was probably tied with Jonas and her father for who she least wanted to see at the moment. He blinked at her, then asked, “What the hell happened to your lip, Carter?”

Oh. Right. She was still bleeding. And showing him more of her chest than she wanted to be, so she yanked her bathrobe shut tighter. “I had to get my shirt off and bit my lip, sir.”

“Ah.”

“What are you doing here, sir?”

He shifted on his heels, looking uncomfortable. “I wanted to apologize to you. I reacted poorly, and you didn’t deserve it.”

“I appreciate it, sir. But if you don’t mind me saying, this doesn’t seem like…”

Colonel O’Neill smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, so, Teal’c…talked to me after my conversation with you.”

That sounded less like Teal’c than Colonel O’Neill apologizing sounded like what Colonel O’Neill would normally do. “He talked to you, sir?”

The smile grew into a grin. “Really it was more like he stared at me until I got the point. You did good, Carter, and you weren’t the one who put our team at risk.”

Wow, that was a big admission for the Colonel, and one that she really did appreciate. “Thank you, sir.”

He gestured vaguely with one hand. “Do you need any help with anything? I know that your back must hurt like hell.”

“I was just going to take a sponge bath, sir.” When he just started at her, she clarified, “I don’t need help with that, sir.”

His face turned a dull red. “Right. Well, we’re on stand-down for the next few days, so try to actually do something restful.”

“Work is restful, sir.”

He rolled his eyes. “You need a better definition of restful, Carter. But I’ll leave you alone now.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He nodded, then turned and walked away, and she closed the door behind him. And everything hurt.  


End file.
